


Mal Aimé

by antheeia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Translation, Underage Sex, Unrequited Love, p0rnfest #10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antheeia/pseuds/antheeia
Summary: /English Translation/Christophe's love for skating and his love for Viktor are one and the same.Viktor is sure he can only ever love his sport.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Mal Aimé](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108901) by [anth_it (antheeia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antheeia/pseuds/anth_it). 



> The underage warning refers exclusively to the first chapter, in which Chris is 16 and Viktor 18.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Written for the[p0rnfest](http://fanficitalia.altervista.org/p0rnfest10/index.php), an italian fic fest by [Fanfic_Italia](http://fanfic-italia.livejournal.com/) on livejournal.**  
>  For the prompt: _Christophe Giacometti/Viktor Nikiforov, Pre!Canon, Chris and Victor had a story_.

Christophe Giacometti was impetuous, an uncontrollable mix of passion and enthusiasm. Viktor considered himself a lively person, someone able to take things lightly with a smile on his face, but he had to admit to himself that, in that field, Chris had a talent that easily surpassed his own: since the first time they competed against each other, when they were both young, the Russian noticed how alluring his enthusiasm was, how the way he smiled, his eyes shining with passion, everything about that guy put him in a great mood, and that’s why they bonded pretty fast.

Giacometti adored him, and not only as a skater. As Viktor saw it, Chris was the first person to look at him not only with admiration, but with honest curiosity: he didn’t care only about his talent, he wasn’t interested only in the competition; the younger athlete was interested in _him_ , his personality, his thoughts, his feelings, his love for the sport. When they were together, he wasn’t just a skater, _just_ the world champion: with Chris, he felt like _a person_ for the first time. So it was natural for Viktor to think of him as a friend right away. And it was like that for a while. They spent time together after competitions, texted, exchanged opinions and pieces of advice even when they were far away.

Sex came into play later on in their relationship, when a young Chris — still sixteen and yet already confident with the overflowing charm that would be his most distinctive trait in the years to come — knocked at the door of his hotel room; the seriousness in his eyes convinced Viktor to let him inside with barely any hesitation, even if he was still in his bathrobe and he was in the middle of drying his hair — after all, the Russian was never one to feel ashamed of his body and Christophe never complained about his self-confidence and his outgoing behaviour that more often than not was deemed ‘too over-the-top’.

The Swiss was nervous: he was fidgeting with the edge of his shirt and biting his lips, and it was so strange for Viktor to see him acting like that, to see a part of him — his serious and thoughtful side — that he was sure could only come out when they were talking about their competitions. Chris was very passionate about skating, just like Viktor, but the difference between them was that skating wasn’t _the only thing Christophe loved_ : for him, his love for ice skating and his love for Viktor were one and the same, a tangle he was unable to unknot, a confused, complex mass of feelings of which he could barely determine the intensity.

Viktor didn’t understand his implied proposals, the unsaid feelings hiding behind his words, he didn’t imagine that beyond the interest Chris had in him there was a lot more than a friendly rivalry; the realisation eluded him for a long time, as he was absolutely convinced that they were identical, that they were both so devoted, so committed to ice skating, that they couldn’t find it in themselves to care about anything else.

He didn’t realize it that night, not even when — after some awkward moments of silence — the Swiss pushed his lips against his own, first with a soft touch, then with increasing eagerness. When Viktor thought back to that moment years later, he wondered how he hadn’t understood what Chris felt, but in that time of his life, the thought that his kiss could have held deeper feelings didn’t even cross his mind. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t reject him. Maybe it was the idea that there couldn’t be love between them, together with his selfish desire for someone that was looking for the same thing he wanted — a relationship, any kind of relationship, that didn’t ask of Viktor more than he felt he could give — that convinced him to accept that kiss and all the others that came after it, warm, wet, awkward, sloppy, heated.

Viktor smelt like white musk shampoo, the one he always used — the youngster ended up buying a similar one, just because it reminded him of his friend. And yet, when the Russian was wearing it, that sweet smell had a spicy note, an almost intoxicating feeling about it. Underneath the damp bathrobe, his skin was soft and warm, way more than Chris had imagined in his fantasies. Viktor’s long, fair hair, still wet, stuck to his face and dampened his clothes, but that most likely had way less to do with the shiver running down Chris’ back than the lustful touches the two were exchanging in between their kisses.

Viktor was the first to reach for the other’s crotch, palming his erection through the tracksuit bottoms that didn’t really hide it that well. When Chris moaned quietly, looking at him with a pleasantly surprised face, his eyes wide but half a smile on his lips, Viktor kneeled down and moved his lips closer to the soft clothes covering the younger guy’s cock — and there was nothing strange in wanting to have a little fun like that after the competition, he thought, especially not with Chris.

“Is this what you want?” whispered the older one, raising his gaze to meet the other’s eyes, which reciprocated the look; the Swiss run his hands between Viktor’s silver locks, entangling his fingers through them and moving them away from his face.

 _This wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about_ , thought Chris, but that was definitely not a bad development. He nodded and let Viktor pull down his joggers. Viktor, _that Viktor_ , the guy he admired since the first time he saw him skate, the gay for whom he had a big crush since the day he gave him a flower from his bouquet together with a promise, the guy Chris couldn’t believe had now considered himself his friend for a year. Viktor, the same person that now had his hands and his mouth around his erection: his warm tongue moved languidly around the head while the younger moaned, his grip on the russian’s hair getting firmer; Chris stood still and allowed him to continue moving at his slow and terribly erotic pace, and he resisted the urge to push himself between his lips, to set a faster rhythm, and it was so _difficult_ , at least as much as trying desperately to pull himself together and to hide how much the idea that that whole thing was really happening made him feel overwhelmed and happy.

Viktor had no idea of that difficulty — and maybe it was better that way, no need to further praise his ego — while he sucked Chris’ erection, circling the glans with his lips and raising his gaze to meet the younger guy’s eyes with a delighted expression. The Swiss had a pungent taste, maybe a bit bitter but not unpleasant, and his cock was burning hot, probably as much as his blushing cheeks and ears. Viktor paused to admire his enraptured face and he found himself thinking it was terribly arousing, intoxicating as much as his smell.

The Russian closed his hand delicately around Chris’ dick, his hot breath titillating its pink head while he jerked him off, his pace faster and faster, matching to the obscene sounds coming from the younger’s throat. Viktor’s slightly parted lips, red, swollen and curved in a mocking smile, brushed against the erection, and his tongue sometimes darted to wet it. Chris had the impression that the other was waiting for something, or maybe he just liked provoking him. Viktor moved his lips away from his cock and raised his reddened face towards his lover, his blue eyes bright with lust even more bewitching than usual.

“Don't be shy, Chris. I didn't think you could be so pliant,” Viktor breathed, his voice a raspy whisper, while he kept languidly provoking him with his hands and his tongue. And Chris would have let him do that for hours if his own desire to feel that mouth wrapped around his cock wasn't becoming unbearable: so he gripped his hair, pulling him closer, and pushed himself beyond his lips until he hit the back of his throat. Viktor let out a choking sound, and he gagged around the length. Chris loosened the grasp on his scalp, worried he had gone too far, but the Russian didn't take advantage of that: he gripped his lover’s hips and started moving his head at a steady pace, stopping now and then to catch his breath. The younger guy hesitated for a moment, but the regular pace and the wet heat of the mouth he had desired for so long wiped away doubts and uncertainty, and again he tightened his grip on Viktor’s soft, damp hair, while he felt a familiar heat pooling in his crotch.

“Viktor…” he breathed, with an almost pleading tone, moving his hips to meet the other’s lips, adapting to his pace and losing himself into the uncontrollable and feverish ecstasy of the upcoming climax. “I-I’m–” he tried to warn him, but the words died in his throat when the other grasped his swollen dick, placing it on his tongue while he continued jerking it off. Chris was shaken by an intense and satisfying orgasm which clouded his thoughts for a couple of long moments. Viktor tasted the warm semen that streamed between his lips; some lone spurts ended up on his face and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, together with a bit of drool covering his chin, in a gesture that should have been anything but elegant and instead kept an unexplainable grace in Chris’ eyes, which were staring at the other while the Swiss caught his breath.

While he got up from the floor, Viktor had an amused expression on his face which didn’t escape his friend’s attention. “What’s so ridiculous?”

“Your face when you come is very funny,” teased the Russian, a playful and pleased smirk on his wet lips. Chris smiled back at him widely, grasped both his wrists and pushed him against the wall behind them, licking his mouth passionately, tasting them, unconcerned with the slightly bitter taste of his own orgasm still lingering on the other’s lips.

“I bet yours is even better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! :3


End file.
